


There Goes the Neighborhood

by midnightstreet



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Future Fic, Humor, M/M, Patrick Brewer has a degree in David Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27001831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightstreet/pseuds/midnightstreet
Summary: A little ficlet for the prompt:the people next door have a chihuahua that becomes David's mortal enemy
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 15
Kudos: 84





	There Goes the Neighborhood

**Author's Note:**

> A few days ago I threw a bunch of prompts at [yourbuttervoicedbeau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau), and one of the ones she didn't take tickled me so much, I knew I would wind up writing it. (Yes, I'm filling my own prompt, and idgaf.) So thank you, MJ, for the prodding, as well as the beta.

“PATRICK! It’s time to go! Hurry up!”

Patrick came bounding down the stairs, moving as quickly as he could while yanking up a sock. “Have you seen my other brown shoe?” He held up the missing footwear’s mate, a beige sock stuffed inside it.

“‘Brown shoe’ is not a helpful description, honey; I’m going to need a shade and a style.”

“If you’d turn around, you could tell me how to identify them next time this happens.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s fine,” David replied, not turning around from where he was pressed against the door, his hand on the doorknob. “Just this once, I grant you permission to wear your - oh god - _sneakers_.” David gestured without looking to the filthy running shoes that were in the boot tray in the entranceway.

“David, what’s the rush? We have an hour, and even if we didn’t, I’m sure Stevie will have no problem passing some time in the airport bar ”

“Oh, I know for a fact that’s true - she told me she already knows two of the bartenders by name, and at last count has gotten nine different lonely businessmen to buy her drinks. I’m quite impressed.”

“Glad to hear she hasn’t lost her touch. So why are you so desperate to get on the road?” Patrick demanded, standing up from putting his sneakers on, lifting his jacket off the hook and plucking his keys from the bowl next to the door. “And why is your face pressed to the glass like that? Last time I put my forehead on the window to stare down that squirrel that’s been eating my tomatoes, you lectured me about the ‘transfer of oils’ leaving a smudge on the glass.”

“Mm, yes, and also the dirt from said glass working its way into your innocent pores.” David turned away from him, checking his phone and sighing before he continued his reconnaissance mission.

“I would have thought you’d be even more worried about your own skin.” David shot him an accusatory look. “Uh, flawless as it is.”

David remained unconvinced by the argument, so Patrick hung his jacket back on the hook and wrapped his arms around David from behind, reaching up a little to see over David’s shoulder. “So what’s out there that you’re so interested in but feel the need to hide from? You were the one trying to get me out the door before my shoes were even on. Is that hot jogger back? You know I’m not mad about you checking him out, given that I do the same and we’ve talked about not being ‘ashamed of our desires’. Want to ask him about that threesome?” Patrick half-teased.

“Patrick Brewer, you little slut, we both know you’re the one who’s leading _that_ charge.”

Patrick blushed at David using _that word_ \- lighthearted and teasing though his tone was - in the hall, in the middle of the day; he’d never said it outside the bedroom before, and he _knew_ what it did to Patrick. He hid his embarrassed smile in David’s shoulder.

“Okay, so what the hell is out there, then? If it’s not Roland, Ronnie, or a bear, I’m leaving before Stevie has to be carried out of the terminal.” He made to move around David, reaching the knob and starting to twist before David spun around and pinned Patrick to the wall. Oh god, did David _want_ him to get hard right now??

“Shh! Keep your voice down! It’s...it’s _Julio_.” David whispered, his eyes frantic.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“It’s not a _who_ , it’s a _what_. Specifically, it’s...Patrick, you _know_! Don’t make me say it; let me hold on to some shred of dignity here.”

“Is this another one of your exes? Do I need to beat him up? Because you know I’m a lover, not a fighter,” Patrick joked, deadpan.

“IT’S THE DOG, OKAY?! There, are you happy now? That little...thing...is just waiting for me to be out in the open, I’m sure of it. And we missed our window of opportunity because _someone_ can’t tell camel from tan. So here we shall remain until that tiny monster shits on our lawn and moves down the block to continue his reign of terror!” David’s hands were flailing around so wildly Patrick closed his eyes just in case of injury and stood very, very still, biting the inside of his cheek almost hard enough to bleed to keep from laughing.

“Oh David,” Patrick began, petting his husband’s chest with both hands. “We’ve talked about this. The dog is not out to get you, and even if it were, I’m pretty sure you could take a 5-pound chihuahua.”

“It’s not the _size_ , Patrick! He’s got sharp teeth and the element of surprise! He’s been plotting against me for _weeks_ now, I can _feel it_.”

“Okay, triage time: what do I have to say to convince you that Mr. Ballin’s tiny, elderly dog, the one that needs to be picked up to clear a curb, is not planning your murder, so that we can get out of here?”

David pouted. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?” Patrick nodded very, very slowly, trying to lead David along the road he finally seemed to be going down. “But you didn’t _see_ , Patrick! You didn’t see the _look_ it gave me!”

Damn, so close. Patrick pushed himself off the wall and took David’s face in his hands. “Baby, there was no look; that poor dog is probably half-blind anyway. It shivers if it goes out without a sweater _in the summer_ -”

“I do admire its high-quality knitwear.”

“- and if nothing else, even _you_ could outrun that thing.”

David raised a haughty eyebrow. “Okay, that was an insult we will be returning to later, but I suppose you do have a point.”

“Thank you. Now can we go get our best friend? If we manage to make it back before the sun goes down, I promise I’ll blow you in the car as soon as we drop Stevie off, just like old times.”

David paused, looking back and forth between Patrick and the door. “Maybe you should bring the car around back. Just in case.”

“Okay David.” Patrick smiled, kissing his cheek before grabbing his coat again and giving David a parting slap on the ass. He was calling this one a win. “I’ll meet you by the kitchen.”

“Thank you honey.”

“If I don’t survive, tell my parents I love them.”

**Author's Note:**

> The real-life [Julio](https://www.instagram.com/p/B4hrdwRg6FN/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) belongs to Dan Levy's friend Trevor Ballin, and does indeed wear some lovely sweaters, knitted by his daddy.


End file.
